


curtain

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Ballet, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Makeup Sex, Nancy Drew Files, Safer Sex, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: Nancy's training as part of a case, and Ned's there to pick up the pieces when she's hurt.
Relationships: Nancy Drew/Ned Nickerson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	curtain

**Author's Note:**

> While this contains a few references to Files 9, you don't need to be familiar with the series to read this.

Ned caught the door with his hand, slowing its motion so it slid into place with barely a click. His gaze was on the stage, a box of brilliant light in the darkness.

"Again." The command was—not quite impatient, not quite harsh, but on the edge of it. Not quite exasperated.

And Ned could see how tired Nancy was. Of course she was; it was after midnight and she was in pointe shoes. She had been thrown down a flight of stairs earlier that day. Under the harsh lights, her pale skin was cast in stark relief, and as Ned walked closer, safe in what she would see as darkness, he could even see a faint pink rim around her eyes.

Exhaustion, of course, he told himself. Of course.

Her hair was falling out of its ponytail, in wide swaths that whipped, sweat-damp, against her cheeks. She was breathless, throwing herself into the practice session, circling her arms before opening them wide as she executed another maneuver. Ned had never learned the names for the positions and motions, but thanks to his brief relationship with Belinda, he had seen a lot of this life up close, and Nancy had to be struggling up there. She was slender but not waif-thin; her muscles were toned, but being en pointe was a massive strain on her legs and ankles.

He had seen her after the previous extended practice, her feet aching, even bleeding. Even as he had heard the fear pour out of him, disguised as anger, he had known how she would react. But he hadn't been able to stop himself.

She wasn't the only person who could save the world, and he had seen her climb up on that altar far too many times. She wasn't a trained dancer, and it had been years since she had practiced regularly, but she insisted that Mariana was right. The threats on her life were too serious to brush off, and whoever was threatening her was focusing on ruining the opening night. Nancy's presence on stage would both bolster Mariana's confidence and serve as protection.

Ned kept imagining Nancy throwing herself into the path of a bullet, and _that_ was more than he could bear.

"Again."

He settled in an aisle seat close to the stage, watching her for a few minutes before he turned around. They had done a search of the auditorium, and if the person behind the threatening messages managed to bring a weapon in past security, well... that was it. Nancy's hunch that the person would likely try to come onstage somehow was just that, a hunch. Maybe because once a gun entered the auditorium, anything they tried to do would fail.

It was a sobering thought, but then, all of it was.

He faced forward again as the director, sounding weary, pronounced Nancy's work barely passable and dismissed her for the night. Despite the wording, Ned knew that was high praise, especially for Nancy. She smiled briefly, moving with gentle, tentative steps as she headed to the side of the stage.

She hadn't seen him, and that was fine with him. He was still trying to figure out what to say, even as he made his way to the hallway to meet her.

She emerged from the changing room five minutes after he stationed himself outside it. She was still limping, a sagging duffel bag slung over her shoulder. When she saw Ned standing there, Nancy's expressions went from relief and burgeoning happiness to wariness in an instant. She slowed to a stop, wincing slightly.

Ned supposed he deserved that.

Ned pushed himself off the wall with a shrug of his shoulders and took a few steps toward her. "I'm sorry," he said. "You know I worry about you. That doesn't give me the right to be an asshole."

A brief smile quirked her lips. "Glad we're on the same page, then."

She started moving again, and he fell into step beside her. "Bess told me about you being pushed earlier."

She glanced over at him quickly, then tightened her lips. "I'm fine."

Now that he was closer to her, he could see the abrasions on her arms and legs, areas that were going to be livid bruises. That couldn't be helping her pain.

"Nancy," he murmured. "Sweetheart."

She had quickened her pace, but the effort was costing her. She took another step and her ankle seemed to collapse under her. With a sound that was half-whimper, half-cry, she stumbled.

Ned swung toward her and they crashed together, his arms sliding around her to hold her up. Her duffel bag hit the floor and she gasped. Ned breathed her in and closed his eyes. No matter how many times he kissed her or held her, it was never enough.

"Is it okay?"

She took a deep breath and tentatively put her weight on it, and paled. "I just need to take it easy tonight," she declared. "I'm sure it'll be fine tomorrow."

Ned avoided looking at her. He didn't want to start another fight. Instead, he scooped up her duffel bag and slung it over his own shoulder, then swung her into his arms.

"Ned!"

"You said you needed to take it easy," he pointed out. "Would you rather ride piggyback?"

She opened her mouth and closed it, then raised an eyebrow. "Bridal carry, though, really?"

He started walking. "You're on thin ice, Drew," he said, mock sternly.

She smiled. "Always," she murmured.

\--

"I'll be right back. _Don't move._ "

Nancy rolled her eyes and nodded, making a dismissive motion with her hand. As soon as the door swung shut behind Ned, though, she moaned and reluctantly reached for her shoe.

All of her hurt. Every single bit of her seemed to ache or throb, and with any luck the pills she had just taken would kick in soon. Her feet were fresh bruises on top of tender bruises, and just flexing her toes was agony.

She was going to die on stage tomorrow night.

Oh, she had taken on grueling challenges before, for previous cases, but this was beyond. Dancers trained for years to dance en pointe, and built up musculature Nancy would never have. None of this pain and damage would be permanent, but God, for now... for now she was just worn out. She had poured everything into that practice, to be pronounced barely passable.

Ned returned carrying the ice bucket, and at first applying ice just felt like even more of a shock, but she gradually relaxed.

"Okay. Are you okay?"

Nancy nodded wearily, her eyes closed. "Thanks," she murmured.

"There's a drugstore five feet away from the lobby. I can go pick up some Epsom salts. I really think it would help."

For a second, she was lost. Then she realized what he meant. Of course he'd have some idea how to recuperate from practice injuries; he had played every high school and collegiate sport he could. "Mmm." She opened her eyes. "They're still open?"

"Yeah."

Nancy's stomach growled. Between everything that had happened today, she had managed a bottle of water and a granola bar since lunch.

"Dinner too, huh."

She rubbed her stomach. "I could eat," she admitted. "And I'm sure you could, Nickerson."

"Always."

Nancy closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she could hear water pounding against the bottom of the tub. Ned was unloading a paper bag from a local fast food place. She blinked a few times, sitting up a little straighter and wincing. She was so exhausted that she had just lost, what, half an hour? _God,_ she needed to sleep.

This entire day had been a disaster, not just thanks to that tumble down the staircase or the rigor of tonight's practice. After her fight with Ned the night before, Nancy had found herself replaying it over and over, forcing it out of her mind only to see it return again a moment later. She knew that she and Ned were both frustrated, and it was hard for her to admit that she had taken on something she was _barely_ capable of pulling off.

But she and Ned had never been able to spend as much time together as they wanted, and letting a fight interrupt it was just rubbing salt in a very, very tender wound. They'd been having some variation of this argument for their entire relationship, or at least it felt that way.

"Sorry. I was craving—well, straight-up garbage."

Nancy chuckled as she straightened herself up and accepted the bundles he was handing her. He had a covered plastic tray filled with some abomination that was loosely called "nachos" on the menu, but was in actuality an absolute mess of refried bean glop, sour cream spread, nacho cheese that already bore a thin plastic-y skin, shredded chicken, beef, and a scattering of scallions. None of the chips were even visible. He had ordered her usual when they swung through that place, regretting their decisions even as they made them. She devoured her shredded chicken and rice burritos in ravenous bites, surfacing only to gasp in air and suck down half her soda.

Ned held his "nacho"-smeared hands at arm's length as he vanished into the bathroom, where he turned the water off and returned with his own hands clean. "Your bathtub awaits," he said, with a little bow, and his eyes were warm when he glanced up at her again.

"Aren't you an absolute doll."

"Shh. You'll ruin my street cred."

Nancy wiped her own hands, then stood—and almost cried out in pain. She had to bite her lip hard to keep it a mere whimper. Ned noticed anyway, though, and was by her side before she had even taken a breath.

"You can hold my arm," he offered, after a beat. She could hear a faint strain in his voice, and couldn't bear to look at him. He always hated seeing her hurt, and this... well, there was no one he could punch in retaliation.

But she hesitated too long, and then Ned was scooping her up into his arms again. She sighed and bit back her immediate retort that she was _fine_ , she didn't need his help, because it would have been such a blatant lie. She did need help.

He helped her out of her clothes, and she grimaced, uncomfortable that he was seeing her this way. She hadn't had time to shower after her practice session. She had been so tired that she had just wanted to find any flat surface and pass out.

The water was so hot that she hissed, concentrating on finding a comfortable position, and by then it actually didn't feel so bad. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

Mmm. Warm, full belly, safe.

\--

_Good morning! Is she doing okay?_

Ned was juggling a paper bag and a tray with two coffees, and waited until he had very quietly closed the hotel room door behind him to reply to George's text. _She's still asleep,_ he reported. _I'll tell her to text you when she wakes up._

Ned had no intention of waking her. The coffee might do that all by itself, and that was okay, but she definitely needed to rest. He could always buy her another cup of coffee.

Thirty minutes later, his coffee was finished and the blueberry muffin Ned had bought for himself was reduced to crumbs, and he was scrolling through sports headlines on his phone when Nancy made a soft noise and began stirring. He put his phone down and sat up, watching her from the upholstered chair beside the bed.

"Mmm." She opened her eyes with a gasp, half-sitting up, then collapsed onto the mattress again. "Holy shit," she muttered, her voice sounding almost clogged. "I passed out in the tub?"

"Yeah," Ned confirmed, standing up.

"What..." She glanced down, then back up at him.

Ned chuckled. "Yeah. Sorry. I didn't think you'd want your old clothes back on."

"Yeah." She rested another minute, then sat up and tossed the covers back. He could tell she wasn't looking forward to putting any weight on her ankle, but she set her jaw and swung her legs over the side of the bed. His old t-shirt swallowed her slender frame, but the hem had twisted up above her thighs, and he caught a flash of bare skin as she stood, before she had tugged it down.

Not that it mattered, since he had seen her naked plenty of times, but the sight always gave him a little thrill.

"How's the ankle?" he asked quietly when she emerged from the bathroom.

She shrugged. "If I keep them taped today, I think I should be fine tonight," she said, avoiding his eyes. Then she saw the coffee and the paper bag beside it, and she couldn't glance over at him fast enough, her eyes so full of hope that Ned had to laugh.

"Yes, it's for you. I think it'll even still be warm."

He hadn't seen her so ravenous in a very long time. She finished her first pumpkin cream cheese muffin in a few bites, moaning in rapture as she took her first sip of coffee, then broke off a chunk of the second muffin and popped it into her mouth.

"You're gonna want to head to the theatre soon, aren't you."

"Yeah." She took another long sip of coffee, and her eyes were sparkling as she lowered the cup. Then she tilted her head. "What?"

He smiled. "Seeing you in my shirt and nothing else, moaning like that... it's just doing something to me."

She chuckled, then slowly stood up, careful on her ankles. He knew they were both hurting; he had inspected her feet as he'd been drying her off and maneuvering her into bed.

"You really should stay off your feet. I can—"

"I should," she agreed, and what he was about to say died on his lips as she tugged the shirt over her head and sat down at the foot of the bed.

"How about this?" she asked, her eyes twinkling again. "Seeing me like this doing something to you?"

"Always, baby."

"You've taken such good care of me." She scooted backward as he stood and approached her. "Think you can keep pressure off my ankles?"

"Mmm. Can you just... spread out?" He reached for his fly, sliding a knee onto the bed.

"I'll try."

"Fast or slow?"

"Mmm... medium?" She spread her legs wide in invitation.

"So no eating you out for ten minutes?"

"Mmm." She watched him hastily strip, then slide onto the bed again. "Are you trying to change my mind?"

"Maybe." He moved over her without yet touching her, supporting his weight on his palms and knees, gazing into her face. She looked better, but she was going to need more than a few hours of sleep to recover from this case. Her playful expression softened to something more tender.

"I'd make it last all day if it would keep you here and safe," he admitted softly, without meaning to say it at all.

She reached up and cupped his cheek. "Part of why I can do what I do is because I know you're here," she admitted. "To tell me when I'm going too far. I know I'm stubborn. It does sink in somewhere." She smiled slightly. "It hurts when I know you're right."

"It hurts to see you the way you were last night. The night before. During most of this, really." He shifted his weight and she tensed, then relaxed and sighed as he came in contact with her. "Or maybe you, me, and ballet are just a bad combo."

She chuckled. "Maybe so," she agreed, sliding her arms up around his neck. "Thank you for taking such good care of me," she murmured, gazing into his eyes. "You're so thoughtful and sweet."

"You forgot 'devastatingly handsome,'" he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.

"I never forget that," she retorted, parting her lips to deepen their next kiss.

He stroked his free hand over her in a slow caress, tracing and teasing, alternating light brushes of his fingers with hard strokes. He waited until she was moving with him, angling her hips, panting, before he trailed kisses down her neck and cupped the join of her thighs.

"Oh God, _please_ , baby..."

He heard, but didn't register, a soft buzzing as he grabbed a condom and tore open the wrapper. She was incredibly slick and plush under his probing fingers, and once his erection was sheathed he settled over her again, kissing her deeply, feeling her rub against him in invitation.

"I love you."

She moaned, breathless. "I love you too," she murmured, and her restless body shuddered and stilled as he slid inside her.

And once he was there, joined to her, it was over for him. He gazed down at her, watching her expression as she responded to the rhythm of his body in hers, as she did all she could to keep from hurting herself further. He helped her support her weight, and in doing so had nearly perfect control of their lovemaking, and she didn't flinch or respond with fear. She trusted him so, so fucking much, in so many ways. It was easy to forget that, when every molecule of his entire body was screaming in alarm, seeing her in danger.

"Oh _God!_ " She sucked in a swift breath when he brushed against her clit. "Oh, baby..."

Her hips bucked and she tilted her head back, releasing soft cries and groans of pleasure as he kept moving against her, and soon his teeth were gritted and he was plunging into her over and over. She didn't have to tell him how close she was to orgasm; he had been with her so many times, had seen her like this so often. He knew it by her sharp gasp, by the jerk of her hips, by that soft pulse he could feel against his cock.

And then she released a cry of pure joy, her gasped breaths building into an ecstatic shriek. When he moved his hand to rapidly rub his thumb back and forth over her clit, she sobbed, her inner flesh clenching tight around him. "God, _yes_ ," he gasped, holding out long enough to thrust a few more times before he collapsed to her, both of them trembling, her arms tight around him.

"Shit," she panted, her heart pounding against his. "Wow."

"Mmm," he agreed, nuzzling against her.

They stayed that way until they recovered, slowly. She giggled softly as he kissed her earlobe, her fingers combing through his hair.

They both startled at the sound of a fist pounding on the door. "Hello?"

George's voice.

Ned winced. "Shit. I forgot."

Nancy chuckled. "Coming!" she called, even though Ned was still sprawled on top of her and she wouldn't be able to do anything until he moved.

Ned gave her a mock leer. "You bet you are," he murmured against her skin before he kissed her, and she squealed, pushing at him ineffectually.

\--

"As _soon_ as you're done out there, and I mean it, you get back here."

George wasn't teasing, at all. Her dark eyes were concerned as she gazed at Nancy.

The large room off the stage the dancers used for their dressing area was complete chaos. All around them women applied dramatic, exaggerated makeup, meant so the audience could see it as they performed. Some made last-minute adjustments to costumes. Some were doing stretches so deep they made Nancy wince. She was warmed up, as well as she could be, but once she was on stage, she was going to have to trust herself and perform like these other dancers would be.

Her ankles _did_ feel better. But tonight...

She didn't want to think about how she was going to feel after. As long as Mariana was safe, her own comfort was a secondary concern.

Nancy gave George a reassuring smile. "I will. I promise."

George frowned. "Let's try something a little less intense next time, okay?" she suggested. "Like maybe training for one of those insane endurance reality shows."

"That sounds like fun," Nancy said brightly, and both of them laughed.

Another dancer approached Nancy, breathless. "Mariana wants to see you," she said.

Nancy gave herself one last check in the mirror and hugged George before going to Mariana's dressing room. As the star of the show, she had her own; while it was the size of a closet, and Nancy was barely able to fit inside with all the clutter, she knew Mariana was still proud of it.

"Any updates?" Mariana's wide eyes met Nancy's in the mirror.

Nancy shook her head. "And maybe this is all he wanted, to upset you for tonight's performance," she reminded Mariana. "You're going to be incredible out there."

Mariana smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I hope so," she said. Then she slumped a little. "If not, I'll never have a chance like this again."

"Of course you will. Not just anyone could go out there tonight and perform like you."

"I shouldn't have to," Mariana replied. Her hand closed into a fist, and she blinked rapidly.

"No, you shouldn't," Nancy said frankly. "But you're strong. Some people just hate to see a strong woman. But there's going to be some little eight-year-old in the audience who sees you tonight and is completely enchanted by you, who might go on to be a dancer. People will see you and be amazed by you. For a little while, the rest of their worries and troubles will fall away and they'll just see you."

Mariana stopped for a moment, considering. She was still tense, but at least she was fighting it, trying to get past it. She caught Nancy's gaze in the mirror's reflection and smiled.

"Thank you, Nancy."

Nancy smiled back.

A few minutes later Mariana pronounced herself ready, and Nancy gave her another reassuring smile, even though her heart was sinking. She had taken the strongest painkiller she was comfortable with using tonight, because she couldn't afford to just be focusing on her ankles. She had to be aware of everything going on around them. Just in case. She wanted to believe what she had told Mariana, but all her past experience told her this was absolutely the worst time to let her guard down. The person behind that letter had threatened to ruin tonight. Nothing would convince Nancy he had somehow abruptly changed his mind.

Mariana put her shoulders back and swept out of her dressing room, then stopped short, so abruptly that Nancy nearly walked into her. "Oh. Hello?"

Ned smiled. "You'll do great out there."

"Thank you," Mariana said a little uncertainly, glancing back at Nancy. The artistic director was approaching too, a concerned look on his face.

Then Ned took Nancy's hand, and for a moment, the anxiety and fear became like a roaring. Of them all, Ned and George knew what kind of toll this was taking on her. If she assured him that she was fine, he would know it was a lie.

Then she looked into Ned's face, and he smiled at her. His dark eyes were troubled, but he smiled anyway.

Nancy melted a little.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she said.

" _Don't_ break a leg out there."

She chuckled, despite herself. "I'll try. Let's...?" She gestured, and they followed Mariana, trailing a few steps behind. They were too close to the beginning of the performance for Nancy to let Mariana out of her sight for long.

The artistic director gathered all the dancers for a last-minute pep talk, reminders of a few minor changes to the blocking, and Nancy listened as she did what she had been dreading: lacing on the pointe shoes that she fantasized about burning as soon as this case was over. Just the sight of them made her feet throb.

Ned was still lingering just outside. Nancy was one of the last ones to leave, and when he offered his arms, Nancy walked into them gratefully, holding him tight.

Maybe he just wouldn't let her go.

But he did, slowly, and moved to look into her eyes. She could hear it, though, the echoes of their fight, the anger. He was so afraid for her, but he always would be. And if he could have, Nancy was positive Ned would have taken her place.

And _that_ thought was horrible. Nancy had no problem facing danger herself, but intentionally putting Ned in danger... she had always hated doing that.

He smiled and took her hands. "If you need to toss me any shoes, make sure you snap your wrist..."

She laughed. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that again," she replied, still grinning.

He leaned down and kissed her earlobe. "I'll be in the wings," he murmured into her ear. "Whenever you need me."

She squeezed his hands, and when he pulled back, they gazed at each other for a long moment. She could hear the director nearby, and knew it was very nearly time.

Ned didn't want her to go. But he wasn't going to stand in her way. And he would be here.

She gave his hands one last squeeze, took a deep breath, and turned her face toward the lights.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published elsewhere. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving feedback!


End file.
